Daydreams Sequel to April Rain
by XtinethePirate
Summary: One year after Zechs and Heero fought on a rainy April day a day of daydreams and memories.....


Disclaimer: As much as it depresses me to admit it, I don't own Gundam Wing. In a perfect world, I would..... sigh   
Please please please R&R, let me know if you prefer this resolution, or if the end of April Rain should have been just left... I liked it, but mush-head friends obliged me to write a sequel.... sigh   
Xtine the Pirate

**Daydreams** (sequel to April Rain)

The clouds were beginning to lift, allowing pools of smooth golden light to filter down through the cool air. Steam rose in lazy spirals from parked cars and the damp pavement, white wisps against a sky that was revealed to be faultlessly blue. It was the perfect day for poets and daydreamers; a day of sighs and memories. The city smelled clean and new, as if the years of grime and smog had been removed in that single rain shower. A rain to wash all of mankind's ills away….

I tilted my head back to catch the shimmering light, dazzled by the rainbow refractions that sparked in my eyes, sunbeams glimmering off windowed towers that stretched their fingers to the sky. I was glad for the respite—rain on Mars held far too many memories for me.

It had been just over a year since we had fought, but his angry words still burned on my heart. I hated him, hated him with all my heart, a hate as deep and pure as love itself. I still missed him, still loved him. Sometimes I wondered what he had done with the ring, though I was almost positive that he would have thrown the package away, never having opened it. I regretted leaving it behind, whether he opened it or not. I didn't know which I feared worse—had he thrown it out, and dismissed my memory? Or had he opened it and laughed at my presumption? It was just one more complication in my already screwed up life, one way or the other.

I had wandered the city for hours after he had told me to leave, mindlessly flowing through the crowd, never seeing the faces of the people who jostled past.

Everything had ceased to be important with the terrible finality of the door closing behind me. All I could think of was the terrible hurt, so badly disguised, in his dark eyes. Hurt that was founded on false accusations, based on the fear that no one _really_ needed him. That he was a convenient distraction, one that could be very easily replaced.

I could have told him…I should have told him.

_I love you, Heero…_

I had never been able to say it… had barely managed to have the inscription put on his ring. I was always worried that maybe _I _was the one who was the distraction. It would have hurt too much to hear him say it….

Coward.

I could have tried to explain myself, on that rainy afternoon when my life was shattered. I could have proved him wrong. It was yet another regret, another question to haunt my thoughts.

Would he have believed me?

If I had set aside my damned pride that was offended by his allegations, if I had laughed and kissed him and told him that there was only him…would he have listened…?

Would he have cared?

It was far too late now, pride forbade me to seek him out; his pride would never let him admit he had been wrong. So we injure the ones we love the most, breaking your heart, splintering into tiny shards, crushed against the insurmountable obstacle of pride. Old enemies do not do well confessing their weaknesses to each other. Even if we did speak, what would I say to the one who now exists solely in my dreams? A man so cold and remote as to almost match me in world-weary, jaded indifference? Someone I spent a year trying to kill, always returning for one more battle, one more time to see him again before he died at my hand. My obsession, my drug, my only love….

Ah, Heero, we never really understood, did we? Haunted by war and death on the battlefield, we never really knew that it's the memories of happiness that hurt the most….

I hated coming back here. I hated the whole damn planet, had fought against returning as much as I could without losing my job. I would have quit, I had considered it…then what? Work was all I had left, a task I could focus on with single-minded determination.

It made it easier to forget, sometimes.

Une the Über-bitch had insisted that I come here, however trivial the task at hand. I was the only Preventer who knew the city well, the only one who had ever lived on Mars for any length of time. Why should she care that the only person I truly feared lived here? I had never told her about Heero… that was strictly personal; and something that I should have been able to get over, after a year. It wasn't seemly for the former ace pilot of Oz -- now second in command at the Preventers HQ-- and a grown man of 24 to be mooning over the past.

Only Lucrezia knew how much I missed him. It was to her that I had gone, soaked through from wandering blindly in the rain, unable to answer any of her questions through the disbelief that had raged though my mind.

It had been the same as when Treize had died; the peculiar numbing of my senses, the way the world seemed to flow by around me, streams of colour slipping past. Leaving me all alone once again. Our lives are only important in how we affect other people. Without anyone to mourn our passing, who's to say we ever really existed?

_Who would care if I died?_

Posted to Mars for a week, and my investigation was already complete. The company in question wasn't harbouring any illegally manufactured Mobile Suits – they never were. My sister was merely getting increasingly paranoid that everything was working out as planned. No one needed weapons any more… no one needed soldiers any more.

Just once, I wanted to find some warehouse full of old Taurus and Leo suits, and use their presence as an excuse to blow the entire place up. It would make _me_ feel better, at least…soldiers like me were meant to die in battle; we don't sit easily with peace. I know Wufei felt the same way. In our minds, a successful mission would be one that ended with a Mobile Suit battle, lots of explosions, and minimal casualties to our forces sustained. The new Preventers were all diplomats and bureaucrats, children who had never had to fight for their survival. It was their world now.

With nothing else to occupy my mind, I escaped the stifling bonds of my hotel, and the laptop that jeeringly reminded me I had a dull mission report to write, to wander aimlessly through the streets once more. The thought of meeting him by chance on a crowded street bothered me, but I dismissed it as a mathematical improbability. 7 million people lived in the city; the likelihood of two people running across each other was extremely unlikely.

As if to even the odds, and to make a mockery of my smug assertions, I found my wandering footsteps led me to the park across from his apartment building. I was always a creature of habit, and my feet still remembered the way home from the Preventers Building on Mars. Home….

Standing beneath the spreading branches of a maple tree, I stared for a long time at the windows of his apartment, seeing therein only the reflections of the shifting sky. Was he standing behind that mirrored pane, pressing his hands against the glass as he looked out over the city? Did his thoughts turn, as mine had, to a dreary day in April as he stood there…or was someone else by his side? Did his wandering gaze fall on the tree under which I stood?

I sighed, tearing my desperately searching eyes away. It didn't matter any longer. It was over now… shattered dreams can never be repaired. Only a fool's hope had brought me back here, inviting back all the memories I had tried so hard to forget.

Cursing myself for a romantic idiot, I turned to walk away….

….And froze in my tracks.

He stood behind me, watching in perfect silence in the green-dappled sunlight. His Prussian blue eyes seemed darkened in the gloom as he strode purposefully towards me. I realised I was holding my breath, and forced myself to relax, willing myself to remain impassive under his scrutiny.

He stopped a few paces away from where I stood, our gazes locked in a silent battle of wills. Neither of us spoke – what was there to say?

_Even if we did speak, what would I say to the one who now exists solely in my dreams? ….My obsession, my drug, my only love…. _

He hesitated, eyes twin pools of uncertainty. Loneliness and despair were written on his features, a face normally so cold and removed, trained to reveal nothing. When I started to speak, he cut me off, slowly raising his left hand, palm inwards.

I stopped breathing for a moment, feeling my heart skip a beat.

The ring glittered in the half light, winking silently at me.

_"Noin, I really don't think I can do this… what should I say to him?"_

_ "Tell him the truth! You _do_ love him, do you not?"_

_ "Of course I do, but I just…."_

_ "Zechs, he's not going to say no. He loves you too. No one who didn't love you would have put up with you so long….."_

Pride be damned.

I crossed that last space between us, pulling him roughly into my arms, my lips seeking his. He clung to me as if he was drowning, and I was his only hope of survival. A moment, no more, before he put his hands on my shoulders and pushed my away sharply. His eyes were shadowed as he looked at me, anxiety tracing every line of is body.

"Zechs… I…" he stumbled over the words, a man not entirely at ease with feeling, much less articulating an apology.

I smiled gently, taking his hand, and pulling him back into my embrace. I didn't need to hear any apologies. We had both lived through hell for a year; the sound of his voice was consolation enough for me. I leaned my cheek against his dark hair, sighing in contentment, and knowing damn well that I would be here for more than a week.

The spring day around us was beautiful; a casual love affair between the sun and the rain, soft grey dove's wings of clouds brushing against the cerulean face of the sky, tender as a lover's kiss. It was a day for poets and daydreams and hope reborn; a day for returning home to loved ones.

Who says that we are damned souls, who will never find true happiness in times of peace? In my experience, peace is only an illusion. Warriors who are willing to fight will always be needed in this world. True happiness doesn't exist… it should be enough to live, one day at a time.

I closed my eyes, feeling completely secure in the halo of his arms.

I was home….

END

OWARIIIIIII!!!!

Ok, please make comments?! _I_ was perfectly content with how April Rain concluded, but unfortunately I have mush-head friends who demanded a "reunion" sequel. Which end do you prefer??? Let me know PLEEZ!!!

Xtine the Sexy Pirate Laydee!


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